Gina had launched into a colorful story about a little place she’d had in Argentina and the tango-dancing guy she’d had a fling with there. The story had gradually gotten steamier and steamier until Gina finally remembered that Erin wasn’t the only one listening and told her she’d tell her the rest later and all of us chorused aww.

It felt like Erin was becoming part of our weird little family. I stood there watching her sleep. A few strands of ash-blonde hair had come loose from her braid and were being blown back and forth by her breath, flashing gold as the sunset caught them—

“Holy shit,” said Gabriel. “You slept with Erin.”

I whirled around. He’d gotten out to stretch, and so he could trade seats with Gina, since no one wanted to be in the tight back row for long. I hadn’t realized he’d been watching me. How did he…. “Don’t be stupid,” I told him. But I could feel my face heating and this was Gabriel, he was an expert at reading people. The game was up.

Gabriel moved closer and shook his head, nodding to where JD dozed next to Erin. “You really can’t keep it in your pants, can you?” He shook his head, halfway between shocked and impressed. “It was minus twenty, how did you even find a place to—God, JD is gonna kill you!”

“Don’t tell him,” I said quickly.

“Don’t tell who what?” said Gina, emerging from the trees.

“Danny slept with Erin,” Gabriel told her.

Gina stared at me. “Are you insane?! She’s his little sister! JD is gonna kill you!”

“That’s what I said,” said Gabriel.

Gina shook her head. “I knew you were a horndog, but wow!”

“It’s not like that!” I told them. “I really like her.”

Gina and Gabriel’s jaws both dropped. “Oh shit,” whispered Gina. She looked from me to Erin to JD. “That’s way worse.”

“We should get going,” I told them both, and got back into the car. For this stretch, Bradan had the passenger seat. He was opening the gift Stacey had given him just before we left. “What is it?” I asked, glad of any excuse to change the subject.

He showed me: it was a tiny MP3 player and a set of headphones. A thoughtful gift, given that there are always long stretches of waiting around on missions, and we often have to leave our phones at home so they don’t get tracked. It was wrapped in a handwritten note and he read it, then said, “She’s filled it with all the best music I missed when I was in the cult.” He showed me the handwritten tracklist and it was a thing of beauty: Stacey had drawn tiny hearts and cars and fireworks to illustrate the different songs. Bradan shook his head in wonder, a smile touching his lips.